


When All the World is Changed

by xdluhman (deirdrepaterson)



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, mello yello, random stuff, uhh...i stole these prompts from a livejournal, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deirdrepaterson/pseuds/xdluhman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just one hundred prompt fills (or whatever) that I found on a livejournal (more inside). I decided to experiment with the Marvel Universe...so yeah...here goes a complete failure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 001. Mellow

**Author's Note:**

> So these prompts came from http://100-prompts.livejournal.com/82878.html, table 100-C.  
> This one was really goofy...I think?

Thor grinned broadly as he made a toast with his glass of fizzy yellow liquid. "To the Son of Coul, who miraculously survived my brother's attack!"  
"To Coulson!" the rest of the Avengers returned.  
Coulson actually slouched down into his seat and blushed, but that was mostly because Steve had slung his arm over Phil's shoulder and pulled him close, not because of the toast.  
They all took a drink from their glasses.  
"This beverage is wonderful, Man of Iron! What do you call this wonderful drink?" Thor asked, quite pleased.  
"Mello Yello."


	2. 002. Eternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short (?), sad Frostiron piece.

It was something surreal, Tony thought, to have an eternal existence. To be honest he hated it. Sure, he could spend eternity inventing, but he also had to watch as his friends died.  
First, of course, was Coulson, who had died even before Loki had made amends and somehow incorporated himself into the Avengers. His death was understandable, expected.  
Then there was Happy. He died before Tony had accepted the chance for eternity. The U.S. had issued a law ordering every superhero to register with the government. Ever the futurist, Tony supported the law to avoid worse fates. But Steve, of course, saw this as a violation of individual rights, and so he formed a resistance force. During the so-called "Civil War", Happy was caught in a side battle, and Pepper and Tony ultimately determined that they needed to pull the plug.  
A few of the other superheroes he knew died over a period of about twenty years.  
Then Pepper died. Since Tony had made his identity public but chose not to publicize his marriage to Loki, one of the villains had figured that Tony was still involved with Pepper and taken her out to try and get to Tony. Oh, it got to Tony, but the villain paid dearly for his mistake.  
Clint was next. Among the actual Avengers, he was the only one who couldn't claim any sort of extended lifespan. He basically died of natural causes, but it still ticked Tony off that he had to see his friends die. But Loki had insisted, and Thor had backed him up, that if they made all of the Avengers immortal, any of the other "gods" who found matches among the mortals could not make their partners immortal too. Tony reluctantly agreed to leave the others mortal.  
Bruce lasted pretty long, but one day, when he was in his seventies, he accidentally Hulked out and his normal body couldn't handle it anymore. Bruce died, but the Hulk lived on for nearly another seventy years.  
Fury and Steve and Natasha all had some serum or another that extended their lives, so they were the last to go. After about fifty years of Avengering, Tony figured out how to recreate their serums, but it required the removal of the serums from their systems. They agreed, knowing full well that it would kill them, and Tony watched in misery, without his husband or his children, as his last three friends died.  
A thousand years had passed since then, and Odin had long since bequeathed the throne of Asgard to Thor, who was now training his son, Philip, to become ruler. Loki had taken the throne of Jotunheim only because he saw it was the best for all of the Nine Realms, thus making Tony sort of a co-king. Loki's son Sleipnir, whom Loki and Odin had granted the power of a human form, was himself ready to take the throne of Jotunheim.  
Tony sat next to Loki on their balcony in Asgard, looking out at the golden towers that were so different from the icy blue landscape of the planet they called their home now. It was time, Tony decided. He couldn't stall it any longer.  
"I'm done, Loki. I can't do this anymore," he declared, staring Loki in the eyes. "When you gave me this gift, you promised me that when I decided I was done, you would take it back from me, no matter what. Well I've decided. I'm done."  
"You do realize this will--"  
"Start Ragnarok? Yes. And I will fight on Odin and Thor's side. I know. And I'm sorry. But I'm done."  
"As you wish, Tony."  
Chaos reigned. Bodies were strewn across the battlefield. Everyone had fallen except for Loki, Thor, and lone soldier from Valhalla, who was already almost dead. Just as Thor felled Loki, the soldier, who had recalled that his name was Anthony Edward Stark and that he had once been married to Loki Laufeyson, ran his sword through Thor and promptly died himself.  
And so they lay, god and man, on the battlefield eternal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, if I recall my mythology correctly, Heimdall kills Loki, but I felt that a final Thor/Loki showdown was more suitable for dramatic reasons (not that it's dramatic, haha, I wrote all of these really quick with minimal detail).


	3. 003. Subtle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of an ElectricGreen (Darcy/Bruce (I can't remember where I picked that name up...)) story.

It started when Darcy first became Bruce's lab assistant. Honestly, she had no idea why S.H.I.E.L.D. figured she needed to work in a lab as some scientist's assistant, since she was most definitely not a hard science person. Nope. She majored in political science, but that didn't really mean anything either. In any case, she figured S.H.I.E.L.D. kept her around to prevent her from spilling their secrets or something else stupid that she would totally never do…well, unless she was drunk. Still, she could cause way more harm in a lab than doing paperwork…  
She came in for her first day of "work" in a facility near Alamogordo, fully expecting to just do the usual work of keeping Jane fed with a mixture of pop tarts and coffee, only to be told that "Dr. Foster" had been assigned an actual assistant who sort of understood what she was doing. Instead, she'd been reassigned to work for "Dr. Banner", whoever that was. The stupid desk person had pointed her down a hallway opposite Jane's labeled "Transport". Darcy was puzzled. First, that sort of scary black guy with the eye patch had told her to report to this secret science facility, and now this person told her she had to take a jet to New York?!  
Whatever, just as long as she had a job.  
She showed the guards at the end of the hallway her ID, and they let her through to a small hangar containing a single quinjet. The pilot was that scary red-headed woman from the Avengers team. When she saw Darcy board the plane, she raised one of her eyebrows in surprise. "You're the one they picked out to work with Bruce?" was all she said before starting the takeoff sequence, obviously expecting Darcy to know what to do. She didn't, of course, but quickly determined that sitting in the seats on the wall and strapping herself in.  
The flight was surprisingly short, considering they'd just traveled from New Mexico to New York. Darcy spent most of her time fiddling with her iPod, which S.H.I.E.L.D. had finally returned to her, but she still couldn't figure out why it didn't quite work right. And why most of her music had been replaced with stuff like Metallica and ACDC, which she didn't really listen to all that often, if ever.  
When Darcy disembarked, she was still messing with the troublesome device and nearly walked off the top of a building. Luckily there was enough railing in her way to prevent a total disaster. Then she looked down. "Holy crap!" she exclaimed. "Where are we?!"  
Natasha appeared next to her. "Stark Tower."  
Darcy about died. "The Stark Tower? Like, Tony Stark?"  
The spy rolled her eyes. "Yes, Tony Stark. Speak of the devil. Here he comes now."  
Darcy spun around to face the man in question. He gave her an appraising look, then noticed her iPod. He pointed to it.  
"Can you show me that?"  
"This? Really? I guess…" She offered it to him.  
Tony frowned and shook his head. "No, no, I said show me, not give me. I have this peeve about being handed things. Anyway, I think I recognize that particular iPod." He studied it for a second while Darcy still held it. "Of course! I found this on the Helicarrier in a bunch of Agent's stuff when I first got there. I took it and reprogrammed it and put a bunch of my music on it to mess with him. I thought it was his. It's yours, then?"  
She nodded. "Yup. I was in New Mexico and experienced the whole thing with Thor first hand. I lost this when a bunch of S.H.I.E.L.D. guys in suits confiscated my boss' research stuff. I never thought I'd get it back. And now it doesn't work. And it's your fault, apparently." She glared at him. As an afterthought she added, "And who's Agent?"  
"Oh! You must be Bruce's new lab assistant. Yeah, sorry about the whole job confusion thing. That was my fault, I'll admit. I just happened across your file when I was looking through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s documents and decided Bruce needed a young, good-looking assistant. In any case, your iPod still works, but you only see my music because I installed JARVIS on it and gave him strict instructions not to say or change anything until I told him otherwise. Agent Coulson must have led the team that took your stuff, which was why your iPod was in his stuff." Tony almost visibly drooped. "I felt really bad about messing with his stuff after everything that happened, with him dying and all that."  
There was a brief awkward silence.  
"I'm sorry to hear that."  
"Don't worry. Come on, I'll help you with the iPod on the way to Bruce's lab."  
"Who's Bruce?"  
"Big green guy. Not very subtle."


	4. 004. Cheat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers always hated playing board games with Clint.

The Avengers always hated playing board games with Clint.  
He always insisted on sitting up in his nest and nothing short of a mission could get him down, not even Natasha. Not that Natasha even cared that much about games.  
Tony usually found it amusing, except when they were playing games like Operation and Clint would throw items at people's heads. Without the distraction, Tony's abilities with mechanical things usually caused him to win.  
Natasha didn't care very often, except when they were playing poker and she was winning (because she has the best poker face ever) and Clint would call out her cards when she was bluffing. The first time he did it, she almost attacked him.  
Steve never complained about Clint, but every time his turn was messed up, he'd sigh heavily and sink into his chair, almost pouting. Sometimes this got Clint to apologize, but not usually.  
Bruce tended to frown and raise his eyebrows when Clint messed with him. Occasionally he would say something in poor Brazilian Portuguese that no one but Natasha got. When they asked Natasha what he said, she'd respond that he'd said "You won't like me when I'm hungry." They still didn't get it.  
Thor still didn't understand these Earth games, but he did understand that Clint kept messing everyone over. He knew it wasn't right that Clint won every game. He would serve him justice, but the Bird Man was too valuable to damage.

The Avengers always hated playing board games with Clint because he was a cheat.


	5. 005. Transparent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My first (really, really awful) attempt at Spideypool with Superfamily.

Peter had always thought that Wade was pretty transparent, even though his dads always insisted that Wade was hiding something from Peter. Yeah, well, Peter was hiding something from them too. Two things, actually. One, that he was Spider-Man. Two, that he and Wade were actually dating, not just best friends.  
One night, Peter was out as Spider-Man. It was a pretty calm night, so he was perched atop the Empire State Building, thinking about Wade. No one really understood how Peter could stand to hang out with Wade. Not only was he prone to foul language, he was also horrifically scarred. He never told Peter where the deformation had come from, but Peter had never asked either. For some reason, though, he hadn't seen Wade for nearly a month, which was odd. Usually, Wade came over at least three times a week.  
Recently, Peter had heard some strange news about a new sort of hero called Deadpool. Apparently, his fighting abilities were based in martial arts, not any sort of superpower. It was rumored that his superpower was actually some sort of regenerative ability. So far, Spider-Man hadn't run into Deadpool, so Peter didn't really know what to think of the new guy.  
He settled down on the skyscraper in a more comfortable position and looked out at the skyline, eying Stark Tower guiltily. He really did feel bad about lying to Tony and Steve, his dads, about Spider-Man and Wade. He'd had a damn difficult time convincing the S.H.I.E.L.D. people to classify him as "identity unknown", since his dads had unlimited access to almost all of their records. And not being able to let his boyfriend know how much of a risk he took every day…  
Peter sighed and felt like taking off his mask, but he was in too visible of a location, so he just lowered his head into his hands instead. After a few moments, he heard a noise and looked up to see a ninja-ish figure with katanas on his back and guns at his hips. At first he was confused, but then he saw the red and black color scheme, which matched the description of Deadpool.  
Spidey rose to his feet and waited for the other guy to do something.  
"Yo, what's up Spidey?" he said, wrapping his arm around Peter's shoulders.  
Pete moved out of his reach, trying to process the voice, as it sounded familiar. "Nothing. Just keeping my eye on the city. It's my job, you know?"  
Deadpool nodded and moved closer again. "Got any chimichangas?"  
Peter froze. Oh, lord, no. No, no, no, no, no. That couldn't be who he thought it was…  
"No, why would I?"  
Deadpool shrugged. "You usually do when I come over, Petey."  
Peter knew it was Wade. But as Deadpool removed his mask, he had a hard time recognizing this...extremely handsome man as Wade.  
Reluctantly, he removed his mask too. "W-wade? Is that you? You look...different...to, uh, say the least."  
Wade chuckled. "Of course it's me, dumbass, who else would it be? And of course I look different. This is what I should've looked like."  
"How did you know I was Spider-Man? And how did this change occur?"  
"S.H.I.E.L.D."  
"S.H.I.E.L.D.? Just S.H.I.E.L.D.?"  
"Yup. When I went to work for them, I saw the file on Spider-Man and saw that they identified you as him, or whatever. And they--"  
"Wait...they identify my secret identity in my file? I thought I got them to keep it secret…"  
"Anyhow, they formulated a serum that kept my regenerative abilities and actually enhanced them to cover my external appearance. So here I am! In my full glory! Well, actually, my full glory can't be displayed here. After all, there may be children reading this." He turned and winked off to the nether distance.  
Peter just ignored his last comment. Wade tended to act as though he was in a story or a comic or occasionally a video game. "So why exactly are you here?"  
Wade suddenly seemed to lose his cockiness, as though he remembered something he didn't want to do.  
This made Peter very nervous. "Oh, God," he cried. "You're here to break up with me aren't you! You realized that with your new face you don't have to settle for me, right?! Fine. I guess you deserve better. You always have…" He trailed off as he began to cry in earnest.  
"What? What? No, no, no! Petey, you've got me all wrong!" Wade swallowed nervously and knelt down. Out of seemingly nowhere he pulled a small velvet box. "I'm not here to break up with you dumbass! I figured that now that I look like a normal guy, I might finally be worthy of you. I'm here to ask you to marry me!"  
Peter began crying harder, but managed to nod sharply. "Yes, yes, yes! I would have married you even before this, so you're the dumbass!"  
There was another sound of crying and the two men looked to the side in surprise. Floating in midair were Iron Man and Captain America. Tony was hovering there with his helmet front up, holding Steve, who was weeping. Peter's left eye began to twitch.  
"Dads? Uh...what are you doing here?" Then he remembered he was still mostly in costume and clinging to Wade and and and  
"We've known you were Spider-Man for the past year, essentially since S.H.I.E.L.D. found you and tagged you in their files. Steve wanted to confront you straight away about why you didn't tell us, but I convinced him it was better to let you have your secrets. Part of being a teen and all that," Tony explained.  
"I'm twenty-four, Dad," Peter corrected him.  
"Well, you never acted like a teen when you were one. So I think of you as one now. But, anyhow, we decided to let you try out heroing and all that on your own. But then you had that fight with the Green Goblin just over a month ago and you nearly died. Obviously, we never believed your story about those football players at the school you teach at beating you up. They actually respect you for dealing with Wade. Although they don't really like the idea of you dating him." Tony shrugged.  
"Wait! You knew I was dating Wade?!"  
"Of course they did. Who do you think recommended me to S.H.I.E.L.D.? The X-men? Those guys hate me…" Wade grinned. "Plus, I asked them for permission to ask you for your, uh, hand in marriage or whatever, you know?"  
Peter grinned back at him and gave him a deep kiss.  
And to think that Peter thought Wade was transparent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What that was? I have no idea. Oh well.


	6. 006. Believable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sort-of continuation of 003. Subtle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not even close to being fleshed-out. I could have done way better, but, you know, whatever.

When asked to describe Tony, the last thing Bruce would say was that he was believable. His every word was outrageous and, more often than not, part of an elaborately crafted lie in an attempt to get a rise out of the nuclear physicist.  
So logically, Bruce refused to believe him when he called him about his new assistant who was supposed arrive at some point that day.  
"Holy shit, Banner, they sent Point Break's girlfriend's assistant to help you out and man is she hot! Maybe she could help you in more than the lab…"  
"Shut up, Tony. I know you're just messing with me. You always do. You know there's nothing you can do to make me angry."  
"Sure...but you might want to watch out for what happens when Clint mixes those chemicals he's got there…"  
Bruce spun around just in time to see Clint shoot a sodium-tipped arrow (a work in progress for fighting villains near water) into a large vat of irradiated water. The resulting explosion was more than enough to cause him to Hulk-out, no doubt to Tony's satisfaction.  
Once Hulk was in control, his first thought was to hunt down the idiotic Arrow-Bird-Man who had attempted to harm the wimpy human who was the other half of his mind. Unfortunately, the threat in question had already run off, so he had to try to go catch him. Hulk barreled down the hallway outside the lab and almost caught the Bird-Man, but Bird-Man jumped into a room that moved up. Hulk tried to follow him, but the ceiling wouldn't break. He let out a feral roar just as Red-Gold-Tin-Can-Man smashed through a nearby window.  
"Hey, man, calm down!" the Metal Man said.  
But Hulk was distracted by the sound of the room coming back down behind him. He turned just as the doors slid open to reveal not the Bird Man he was expecting, but a Pretty Girl with glasses who was reaching into her bag. She pulled out something that looked like a weapon, but Hulk didn't care as long as the Pretty Girl was watching him.  
He reached out to touch her and realized he was losing control of the body, which was slowly shrinking and losing its green hue. Regardless, the Pretty Girl yelled "Freeze!" and pulled the trigger on her weapon. Bruce felt a jolt of electricity and heard the girl (probably his new lab assistant) tell Tony, "You were right, he's very subtle."  
Damn, Bruce thought, perhaps Tony can be believable.


	7. 007. Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sad pseudo-Capsicoul loosely based on 50 First Dates.

For 5 years, Phil lived each day on repeat. All for one man who would never love him, never truly be his friend, never even remember him.  
It started after the fight against Loki and the Chitauri ended. Everyone knew that Steve had been hit hard on the head during the battle, but he showed no evidence of serious damage, so they just assumed his super-soldier serum had taken care of it. Regardless, they stuck him in the hospital with Phil, who was on his way to recovery after nearly dying at Loki's hands.  
When they came to check on Steve the next day, they found him staring at the ceiling blankly. "It didn't work right, did it? I was too weak, wasn't I? It reversed itself, didn't it?" he chanted, over and over.  
The Avengers looked at each other in puzzlement, not having a single idea what was wrong with Steve. Suddenly, a voice spoke from behind them.  
"He thinks he's back in the 40's. The day after they administered the serum. He thinks he's in the hospital because the serum didn't work right and reversed itself because he was too weak to start with. He's terrified because he doesn't know anyone."  
They turned to find Phil sitting up in his bed, looking sadly at Steve. "He's the reason I'm alive, you know. The reason I may live twice as long as most of you. I almost died yesterday because my wound never clotted properly. My blood type is AB negative, so S.H.I.E.L.D. tries to keep a good stock, but they didn't have any this time. They were sure I was going to die, when Cap-Steve was brought in. They were so desperate that they checked his blood type and, somehow, it was a match. They ended up taking three pints of his blood and giving it to me. That probably would have killed most people, but Steve just fell asleep and made three pints of blood in the next fifteen minutes. Apparently, those three pints contained enough of the serum to incorporate it into my body too, even without the Vita-ray Machine. I owe him my life and he doesn't even know who I am…" Phil trailed off and the Avengers discovered to their surprise that he was weeping silently.  
Tony carefully approached Steve. "Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I apologize for the delay, but I was needed in another area. How do you feel?"  
Steve frowned and furrowed his brows. "I feel all right...but what happened? And who are you?"  
Tony smiled carefully. "I am Anthony Stark. Howard Stark's so-err, cousin, you know. You remember receiving the serum yesterday, correct?"  
"Howard? Oh, the man who engineered the technology to accompany the serum. Yes, I remember receiving the serum. Was it rejected or something? Why am I in the hospital?"  
"No, no. The serum worked just fine. What do you remember about yesterday?"  
"Well, some Nazi blew up the lab and I chased him down and defended myself with a car door and he got in a submarine but I followed him there too and got him out but before I could get any information out of him he bit a cyanide capsule and died. I came back to the facility and the general complained that he needed more than just me and some senator offered me a job selling bonds...I think I went back to the barracks after that…"  
Tony looked at Phil who nodded briefly, indicating that Steve recalled the events correctly. "Okay, Mr. Rogers. After you went to sleep we came and took you to another laboratory to examine you for the effects of the serum. We," he gestured at the Avengers, "are in charge of examining you and attempting to isolate the serum in your bloodstream."  
Steve nodded, then looked over at Phil. "And him? What about him?"  
"He volunteered to test the serum we reverse engineer. He was injured in the blast yesterday, so he may not live either way." Tony subtly winked at Phil and Phil glared back.  
"Okay. So what do you need me to do?"  
Tony spent the rest of the day walking Steve through a series of fake tests observed by the Avengers and Phil. At the end, he claimed to have isolated the serum and pretended to inject Phil with it. The "patient" pretended to be in pain for a few minutes before calming down and getting out of the bed, claiming it worked. The group congratulated each other and set Steve up in the most old-fashioned room in Stark Tower.  
They observed Steve through Jarvis's cameras the next morning, and found that he had again reverted to the day after the serum application. They quickly formulated a plan and set it in action immediately.  
Phil marched into Steve's room, wearing the uniform of an Army Major. "Wake up, soldier! You have work to do, tests to complete! Don't make me regret agreeing to take you on in my regiment!"  
Steve looked confused, but hopped out of bed nevertheless. "Sir, yes, sir!"  
He followed Phil's instructions without question and completed another plethora of false tests with Tony and the other Avengers.  
After Steve went to bed, the group sat down and discussed the situation again.  
"I can't do this," Phil told them. "I can't boss him around because, honestly, and I really don't want to tell you this, but I'd rather you hear from me and not some secondhand convoluted thing from Tony, but bossing Steve around, uh, turns me on."  
There was an awkward silence for a moment before Stark burst out laughing. "You get off on being in charge?!"  
Phil frowned deeply. "No, no, you've got it wrong. I don't "get off" on being in charge, or else I couldn't do my job every day. I am turned on by the combination of Steve just being there and the fact that I have the power to tell him what to do. Normally, I wouldn't have such a problem, but I really don't want to disgrace my grandfather's uniform…"  
Bruce attempted to change the topic. "Okay, well, if we can't do a commanding officer thing, then what should we do? Claim that Phil was part of a parallel project? That could work."  
Clint, however, was confused. "Why are we insisting on involving Phil in this recreation?"  
Natasha rolled her eyes. "He feels indebted to Steve for giving him the blood that saved his life. If he helped cure Steve or even just helped with this every day retroactive motion, the debt would essentially be repaid. Phil hates owing people favors."  
They agreed to try the parallel project plan the next day.  
Phil knocked quietly on Steve's door. "Hello? Mr. Rogers? Are you awake yet?"  
He received no response but soft shuffling noises. He almost left, but the door opened to reveal a sad-looking Steve. Obviously he was going through the doubting phase again. "Who are you and why are you here?"  
Phil smiled broadly. "Hello. I'm Phil Coulson. I was in a parallel program to yours, as far as the super-soldier situation goes. I was given the serum just like you, albeit under slightly different conditions."  
Steve was puzzled still. "What group provided yours? And what do you mean by "albeit under slightly different conditions"?"  
Phil shrugged. "Canada had a vaguely similar program that somehow obtained and modified an earlier version of Dr. Erskine's formula. And you volunteered as a candidate for taking the serum, whereas I was given the serum in a last resort treatment for a potentially fatal wound. They had at least one extra dose, so they figured that even if it failed, they hadn't wasted any effort or unnecessarily killed anyone."  
Steve blinked and stared. "That seems a bit...cold. But I guess it must have worked, right, since you're alive?"  
Phil smiled. "Yes. Anyhow, the team sent me up to retrieve you. We have tests we need to do."  
"The team?"  
"Of scientists."  
"Oh, okay. Let's go, then."  
As they performed the same bogus tests as the past two days, Steve and Phil chatted idly about this and that, though Phil made sure that he avoided saying anything potentially triggering or incriminating to Steve. He found out that Steve loved the Brooklyn Dodgers (Phil refrained from mentioning that they moved to L.A.) and loved the color blue (not all that much of a surprise) and his favorite food was apple pie (such an All-American Boy). Phil became a little uneasy when Steve talked about his childhood, how he'd always been a scrawny, sickly kid who got beat up on and how his mother had died when he was 18 (he was 23 now) and Bucky had taken him under his wing. Actually, Steve talked a hell of a lot about Bucky and wondering where he was, out there fighting the war, and if he'd ever see him again. As he talked on and on, Phil realized that Steve had probably been in love with Bucky, even if he didn't know it himself. God, it hurt Phil to not be able to tell Steve the truth, about when it was and how they'd discovered that Bucky was still alive, but working for the enemy. They'd planned to involve Steve in a mission to bring back or defeat Bucky, but obviously that wasn't an option anymore.  
Tony let them go about three hours before bedtime with a wink and an order to go out on the town. Phil glared, but Steve seemed a bit pleased with the idea of a normal activity. Of course, they had to blindfold him and drive him to an authentic mid-40's bar where everyone actually acted like it was still during WWII, talking about Hitler and Hirohito and all of them. To them, FDR was still president, though he seemed on his last leg. Steve never had any clue this wasn't completely real. Somehow, he fell asleep at the bar and Phil took him home and put him to bed before joining the others for a discussion again.  
"Well?" Bruce asked. "Are you going to be able to handle this scenario? Can you do this every day until we can fix him?"  
Phil sighed deeply. "I-I guess I can. It's just so painful… Did you realize he was in love with Bucky? Imagine what would have happened if we'd sent him on that mission to defeat the Winter Soldier… Oh Lord…"  
Everyone looked at him sadly. Natasha was the first to break the silence. "Clint and I will take care of Bucky, don't worry. We only wanted Steve to go because we thought seeing a familiar face might help him recover, but we can do it without him. But even if we can bring him back, Steve can't see him until he's been cured, as he's going to look a lot different and it would hard to explain…"  
Phil nodded. "Okay. So, we start over again tomorrow?"  
The next day, Phil wore a blue shirt when he went to meet Steve, and the day went much the same as the previous, except instead of going to the bar, they stayed in and enjoyed dinner with the other Avengers. Phil surprised Steve at the end with an apple pie he had baked himself.  
Life continued like this for nearly five more years, with minor variations daily based on what Phil found out about Steve. Occasionally, there'd be a day when someone slipped up and let a current newspaper in or the team got called away to do some avengering and JARVIS would announce it, and Steve would run outside and they'd have to explain everything to him, only for him to forget the next day. And every day, Phil fell more and more in love with Steve, knowing his feelings could never be returned by the man who would never remember.  
Finally, exactly five years since the whole fiasco began, Phil gave up.  
"I can't do this!" he screamed. "I can't live like this, being in love with someone who can only talk about one man!"  
Bucky had been converted and came by some days to watch Steve from afar. He happened to be there that day, and looked extremely guilty as Phil fell to his knees, sobbing.  
"I can't take this anymore. I've repaid my debt, right? I've cared for him for five years now…" He rose to his feet and turned away to leave. "I'm done. I'm leaving. Good-bye. I'll ask Director Fury to reassign me. With any luck, I'll never see any of you again except for on TV."  
He began striding away when a DVD box hit the back of his head.  
"What the hell?!" He picked it up and examined it.  
"You should watch that," Tony suggested.  
"50 First Dates? You want me to watch some sort of stupid rom-com? Really?"  
Tony nodded. Halfway through the box hit him in the face.  
"No way. I'm done." As Phil walked out the door (not noticing that Tony had somehow slipped the movie back in his things), his last words were, "I can't keep living my life on repeat."


	8. 008. Addicted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some strange idea of mine about where Clint came from and all that...meh, it's pretty awful, and super far from canon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this also has a bit about Clint/Natasha, in a non-exclusive relationship. Probably so Nat can do her Widow duties and not make Clint jealous.

Long before Budapest, before he joined S.H.I.E.L.D., even before he met Natasha, Clint was an addict. Unfortunately, unlike most addicts, he wasn't addicted to any of the drugs or things that generally harmed only you and your direct family and friends. Rather, he was addicted to killing.  
He was careful, almost every person completely different, physically, mentally, and in the method of the kill. Oftentimes, he played mercenary and did so indiscriminately. One day he would kill for one Italian mob, then in the next couple of months, he'd kill for their opposition. He was fifteen when he started.  
But shortly after his nineteenth birthday, he began to slip up. He had a dream about being tortured by a red-haired woman. It was a dry spell for the mercenary--he hadn't had any contracts for the whole month, which was fine, money-wise, but he was beginning to experience withdrawals. He had to kill, or else he would kill more people than necessary for his next contract.  
Over the next week, he killed more than a dozen women with red hair all around the world. The world began to be concerned, but Russia was more interested in recruiting this killer, as circumstantial evidence suggested he was responsible for hundreds of other murders over the past four years. They assembled a team of their best KGB agents, including one that they were unaware had defected to the other side but remained as a spy.  
Clint was smart, though. He continued his mercenary work, but in new areas and with new groups. He laid low and watched for signs of observation. The first KGB agent was apparently a complete idiot who didn't understand how to stay unseen. He had sat on top of the building across from Clint's hotel room and aimed a modified sniper rifle at his shoulder. The window had been opened and an arrow had flown out sooner than the agent could react.  
The second agent had been a little more intelligent. He attempted to approach Clint under the guise of a potential contract from the Russian Mafia. But Clint had an understanding set up with the mafia that all contracts would be provided through a select group of people. This man was unknown to the mercenary. He died of a blow to the head.  
The next closest an agent came to getting him was in Mexico City. Clint had just finished taking care of a target for one of the cartels when someone caught him in a back alley and bound his hands. "I have an offer for you," the figure growled in Russian.  
Clint laughed in his face. "Screw you!" he spat in Spanish. "I don't speak Polish or whatever, you bastard!" He thrashed about a little to disguise how he was carefully sawing through the rope around his wrists.  
The Russian just snarled back. "Fine, fine, I have an offer for you," he enunciated slowly in English.  
Clint raised his eyebrow and relaxed. He had made it through the ropes and was waiting for the opportune time to stab this idiot with the dagger in his hand. "Uh-huh. What kind of offer is this, Mr. Russian?" he asked.  
"The KGB would like to secure your services."  
"Oh? Like a contract? Who do you need dead that you can't take care of yourself? The President of the United States, hmm?"  
"No. We want you to work for us. Exclusively."  
Clint was ready. He jumped on the man and began stabbing him, screaming, "Hell no, you bastard! You can't control me!"  
Every agent ended up dead except for one. The last one who faced Clint. The best of the best. Natasha Romanova.  
He had been in his hotel room, sleeping, when she crawled in the window. By the time he woke and realized she was there, she had climbed on top of him and had a strong grip on his neck, thumbs pressing down on his windpipe. What concerned him most was her hair and face.  
"You-you-you're the wo-wo-woman fr-from my dre-dream," he hissed.  
Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Am I now? And what were we doing in that dream? Talking, holding hands, kissing, more? Hmm?"  
"You we-were to-tor-torturing me."  
"Ah. Now, do you know why I'm here?" She let up just enough for him to talk normally.  
"To kill me? No, wait, I hear just the tiniest bit of a Russian accent. Your KGB would like to secure my services, yeah?"  
"No, on all accounts. I would prefer to keep you alive, I no longer work for the KGB, and my bosses would like to stop or re-purpose your services. We can help you control your addiction."  
Clint realized that he hadn't even considered killing this woman, despite, or rather because of, her choke-hold on his neck. Perhaps there was a cure for his addiction, and she was straddling him at that very moment. "Perhaps...perhaps I will accept your offer. But on one condition."  
"Which is?"  
"I get to have you as my personal cure." He tried to reach up to pull her down for a kiss.  
She knocked his hands down and kept him pinned. "You think you can just replace one addiction with another?"  
Clint shrugged. "Sure, no strings attached. I stay addicted, but the world stays safe. That should please your employers, right?"  
"No feelings, no exclusive relations?"  
"No. Not at all."  
"Done."  
And so Clint would always be addicted.


End file.
